Authors Note: This chapter was incredibly fun to write, I love to mess with Micah. I know there hasn't been a lot about Sadie and Arthur, but I promise it is coming! :) Sorry if this chapter isn't the best, please leave a review for how I can improve! Your reviews mean so much to me! I made it more prevalent when there is a POV change, so I hope that is helpful:) Enjoy!
Arthur hung upside down, awaiting what he knew was coming. He heard spurs clang, and boots stomp, getting closer. There must have been at least 3 of them.
"Arthur Morgan," Colm said, twisting the tip of his knife into Arthurs abdomen. Colm bent down and became face to face with his the closest person to his enemy. His breath reeked, of whiskey and something foul. Arthur could not bring any words to his mouth, so he kept quiet.
"Shit, it really is you!" Colm stood and began to pace around the room. There were two other men at Colm's side, watching with wide eyes. Colm held his hand open, waiting for something. One of the men, if you could call him that, placed a huge bowl of warm stew in Colm's hand. Arthur could hardly see, but he could smell so well. He hadn't eaten in so long, however long it had been since he was taken. Colm took a large bite of his meal, slurping and chewing as loud as possible, making Arthurs' stomach churn.
"You hungry, boy?" Colm asked of Arthur, who could not respond. He forced himself to grunt, setting his throat ablaze. "Come on now, just say it. I'll give it to you, just gotta ask," Colm said, bringing the bowl up to Arthur's nose. Arthur inhaled deeply, he just needed to say one word.
"Stew," Arthur muttered, just barely audible.
"What's that boy? You want some stew? I'm sorry son, but we're all out!" Colm said with glee. He dumped the bowl of stew on the floor, right in front of Arthur. Some splashed onto his face, but he had no energy to try and lick it. Colm turned towards the door,
"Do whatever you want with him boys, just leave him alive. Dutch is the one we want." With that, he was gone. The two boys turned from their leader to face Arthur. One of the boys looked at Arthur with sad eyes, the other remained emotionless.
"I'm so sorry, mister," the sad-eyed one began. "I don't want to do this, truly, I don't. But I have to." He took a step closer to Arthur, who shook his head as best he could.
"Please," Arthur muttered. The sad-eyed one couldn't walk any closer, as he almost began to tear up, he shook his head and covered his mouth. He inhaled sharply through his nose and looked back at his companion, who was also pretty young.
"Come on, Billy. We gotta do this, don't you want dinner tonight?" He couldn't have been much over 18, Arthur thought. The sad-eyed one couldn't be more than 14.
"I'm sorry mister. But please, I have to do this," Billy said again. Arthur could not relent, he didn't think he could push much further. Arthur was not ready to die yet. There was so much he hadn't done. Billy took a knife from his pocket and began to shove it into Arthurs exposed stomach. He twisted the knife and pulled it out with enough force to carry a horse. Arthur had no energy to scream, so he coughed, violently, bringing the taste of blood to his mouth. Billy took a step back, he couldn't turn to face Arthur so he quickly walked away, and handed the knife to the older one. He took three quick paces and reached Arthur. He had much less remorse, he dug his fingertip into Arthur's untreated bullet hole, which gave Arthur the energy to twist and try to get away from the boy, but to no avail. The older boy gave Billy a pat on the back and nodded at him.
"You did good there, Billy, I'm proud of you,"
"Thanks, Riley," Billy said. As the pair walked away, Arthur began to fade out of consciousness. The floor became far away, and table blended into chair, stew into the floor. His eyes fell, and he could not open them any longer.
*POV change*
The gang rode relentlessly to Valentine, trying to find some sort of clue as to where Arthur went. They dispersed across town, the hotel, the saloon, even the stables Sadie had a quick step and made it to the saloon first. She walked up to the bartender, doing her best to remain calm.
"Excuse me, mister. Have you seen a man, by the name of Arthur M-, I mean Callahan?" She asked.
"I'm sorry, Miss. I haven't heard of anyone with that name. What he look like?"
Sadie hesitated, "Uh, about 6'2", brown hair, blue eyes, broad shoulders, always wearing a faded black leather hat with a tan cord wrapped around it?" She could list so many more thing, soft lips, soft hands, handsome features, but decided it best to leave those bits out.
"I did see him a few days back but haven't seen him since then. Stole some poor fellers raccoon hat. Can't say I feel bad though, the bastard was always rattling on about something or other," the bartender said, saying much more than needed.
"Few days back, how many?"
"Seven, I think?" Seven days ago, that was when Arthur and Sadie had kissed. Was this where his drunkenness started?
"Damn, thank you anyway, sir," Sadie shook her head.
"Sorry, Miss! Hope you find your friend," The bartender added as she walked away. Sadie made her way to the center of town, where Dutch, Charles and John had all met.
"Nothing?" Dutch inclined.
"Nah, nothing," Sadie said. Their hopeful looks disappeared.
"Goddamnit!" Dutch shouted, attracting some dirty looks from the townsfolk. More gang members were meeting up. This was dangerous for the gang, but saving Arthur was their first priority.
"Nobody seen him at the gunsmith," Bill said, as he made his way to the group.
"Nothing at the hotel," Karen said, stomping through the mud.
"It is okay, everyone. We will find him, we just need to keep looking," Dutch addressed the gang. No one was really believing Dutch, except Micah.
"Come on guys, don't be sticks in the mud! Can't we enjoy ourselves for just one night without the camp stick in the mud," Micah said. People were already angry about Arthur going missing, what they didn't need was Micah. Lenny gave Micah a hard shove,
"Shut the hell up, Micah? How does that sound?" Lenny asked, not really looking for an answer. Micah fell into the mud, looking up at the gang staring down on them. John came so close to spitting on the fool but used his better judgment to not anger Dutch right now. Even though he was the hardest on Arthur, he also loved him the most.
"We have to keep searching!" Dutch shouted, once again trying to refocus the gang. Everyone made their way to their respective horses, and met up in the center, leaving Micah in the mud to help himself up.
"I say we go into the heartlands, he was probably hunting," Charles said. Since no one had a better idea, they headed towards the prairie near the camp. As they got close, there was a horse in the middle of the field, grazing on grass. As the gang got closer, they realized who the horse belonged to.
"Promenade!" Charles shouted, never happier to see a horse in his life. The gang pushed even harder to reach the horse. Prom' kept grazing, used to the gang's presence by now. Charles walked up to Promenade, "Hey girl, where's Arthur been?" Charles cooed to the horse. The gang was standing around Charles, watching him talk to the horse. There was a camp, near where Promenade was standing. Most of the gang began to search the camp, there was no food, nothing, other than a dead campfire, and a lot of garbage. There was also a bedroll left behind.
"There's no trail," Charles proclaimed. "Must've been gone a long time." The gang was clearly very disheartened by this news.
"You lot have all gone soft. Why are we going on a wild goose chase for Arthur? Who even cares that he's gone?" Micah laughed, this time, John punched him straight in the face, and after he fell, John proceeded to spit right into Micah's face. Micah stood up and took a swing at John, who ducked right before contact. Before John could get off his second punch, Charles had managed to subdue the men. Dutch was pulling Micah away, Charles was standing in front of John, also ready to swing. Micah rubbed his cheek, where John had punched him.
"Goddamnit Micah, if you're not going to help, why don't you just fuck off?" John yelled, over Charles' shoulder. In the commotion, no one had seen the O'Driscoll ride up to the gang. Soon enough, Sadie felt the cold steel of a rifle being pushed into her head.
"Guys," Sadie muttered, causing the whole gang to turn their heads. Jaws dropped,
"Hello, Van der Linde, you come lookin' for yer buddy?" The O'Driscoll spat.
Dutch could hardly contain his rage, "You let her go, right now. She ain't do nothin' wrong," Dutch said. "It's me you want, take me," Dutch offered, taking a step closer to the O'Driscoll, who now had his rifle pointed at Dutch. Sadie sprang into Karen's arms and started to cry. Sadie was crying so loud, no one heard John sneak up behind the O'Driscoll.
"You put that rifle down, right now boy," John whispered, wrapping his arm around the O'Driscoll's neck, pulling his knife up to his throat. The O'Driscoll boy whimpered,
"Please, mister. I'm sorry."
"You tell me where my friend is right now, or I swear to god I'll slit your throat."
he's south of Strawberry, near Bard's Crossing. Please, don't hurt me, mister," the man whimpered. But John did not care, and slit his throat, spurting blood across the nearest members of the gang.
"Near Bard's Crossing. Shit, let's ride!" Dutch bellowed, climbing onto The Count. Charles walked to Promenade and gave her a pat on the neck.
"Go on girl, get out of her, get back to camp," he said, patting the horse on the butt, who took of in the direction of camp. Charles hopped onto Taima and took off to Bard's Crossing.
